


Coldest Winter Night

by EldritchMachine



Category: Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Consensual Underage Sex, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:10:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22045486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EldritchMachine/pseuds/EldritchMachine
Summary: Deep down, he is afraid of dying, that much he can admit to himself. Coming to terms with his own death is, after all, not an easy task. Even if he is resolved to see their plan through, he knows his heart still yearns for things he will never have.It may be selfish, but he is not willing to reach the end of the line without havingthisat least once.
Relationships: Kuro | The Divine Heir/Sekiro | Wolf
Comments: 24
Kudos: 113





	Coldest Winter Night

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic back in June, wrote two thirds of it, and only returned to it a couple of weeks ago to finally finish it. I was really happy about the GOTY award, and wanted to celebrate it somehow!
> 
> So. This may be a tiny bit more angsty than I expected. I wanted to write some Kuro/Wolf (or Wolf/Kuro, if you prefer), but also to explore Kuro’s guilt and his relationship with his impending death, so the pace may have turned to be a bit weird. I hope it’s not too tedious! It’s slightly AU, since I wanted some aspects of the setting to be more “realistic”, such as not having the entire story happen in a single day or having Wolf’s wounds not heal immediately, but just at an accelerated rate over a relatively short period of time.
> 
> I headcanon Kuro to be around twelve, and the narrative gets quite explicit past certain point, so be warned. If this is not your cup of tea, please turn back now.

He closes the old, dusty journal with tired hands. Another dead end. Such has been Kuro’s luck for the last couple of days, and he’s getting close to exhaust all his resources on the matter. He cannot give up now, not after all their efforts, but every futile lead that ends up in nothing is quite discouraging. They have made so much progress with the rest of the ingredients needed; over the surface of a book shelf, just a few steps away from him, rest the curiously shaped stone and the strongly scented flower, of such a pure white that it seems to glow. They still have to get hold of the blade, but at least they are on a clear lead on that one. But the wood of the Everblossom... He has nothing on it. The Everblossom just doesn’t exist anymore. The only clue they have is Emma’s word about someone stealing a branch and its flowers in such a way that the entire tree perished soon after. But who? For what purpose? For all they know, it could have been a mere thief acting out of ignorance, or a person already far, far away from the lands of Ashina.

He is starting to think that no written word will hold answer to this puzzle, but the only alternative he can pursue is to ask actual people about it. The problem is, how to go on about that without arousing any suspicions about such a sudden, specific curiosity? The inhabitants of the castle regard him with respect due to the Dragon’s Heritage, but they do not respond to him in any way, and, for the sake of being left alone to achieve his quest, he doesn’t want to disturb even more the already frail atmosphere. Sighing, he puts aside the beaten-up journal and runs his fingers through the small stack of books he has selected to go through a deeper inspection.

The irony of the situation is not lost on him. The same books he has on his hands, and that fuel his ideas and machinations to achieve the ending of the Dragon’s Heritage, are the ones that, at some point, must have been studied by Genichiro himself to try to accomplish something- _anything_ on his quest for immortality. In the end, though, both of them had the knowledge but not the means to reach their goals, and had to rely on someone else instead. Unfortunately for Genichiro, that someone was Kuro himself, and, upon his blatant refusal, he turned to other, even less desirable resources. He thinks of Genichiro with a heavy heart now. He knows he is not dead, but sometimes he wishes he was. To allow himself such thoughts makes him feel terrible and uneasy, but if Genichiro were dead, at least he would be able to find some peace. Because, alive, he will have to see his world crumble before him. Because, contrary to him, Kuro is fortunate enough to have Wolf on his side. Because, sooner of later, they will see the Dragon’s Heritage put to an end. And because, however they may try to delay it, Ashina _will_ fall.

It was never his place to meddle in politics, and politics are over anyway, but he knows everyone is just waiting for the inevitable. He feels certain comfort in knowing that Lord Isshin is somewhat in agreement with him, although Kuro doesn’t think he can even begin to understand Isshin’s thoughts on- Well, on everything, really. Even if Lord Isshin has lived a long, intense life, how could he possibly feel at the prospect of having all his life’s work and all he holds dear be completely overrun by war and death? He wishes that more peaceful and acceptant than he himself experiences it sometimes. Kuro tries to gain resolve from the people that surround him, the people he admires greatly for their strength and fortitude: Wolf, Lord Isshin, Lady Emma. Even then, he isn’t always able to conciliate with the idea of his own death. He has barely experienced anything that life has to offer- But, how can he be so selfish as to think of that kind of thing on the situation they are in? So many people has died because of him, so many people is still dying and being torn apart because of him. There is no other way. He just has to do what must be done, _isn’t it_?

As if summoned by his musings, a soft rustle of cloth behind him announces Wolf’s presence on the room. Kuro knows it even before he turns his head over his shoulder and finds him kneeling on the floor, at a prudent distance.

“My lord,” he says, his voice quiet, neutral, as everything he does and everything he says.

From his own place sitting on the floor, surrounded by old books and a few candles, Kuro acknowledges him with a soft, “Wolf,” noticing the muscles of his own face relaxing a bit. Was he frowning before, and he didn’t realize it? His eyes fall from Wolf’s face to the bandages wrapped around his arm. “Are your wounds better?”

“Yes.”

Wolf was almost completely covered in blood when he returned to the castle, earlier that night. Most of it was not his, but concern still tugged at Kuro’s heart for an instant when he saw it- Wolf may be unable to die permanently, but Kuro doesn’t doubt he is still able to feel pain, even though he is very skilled at hiding it. It turned out that the blood that stained his garments came from the beast he had to slay to obtain the rare, precious flower that Kuro needed for his incense, but he actually was himself heavily wounded under the dark layers of clothing and light armor. Still, Wolf had thought more important to deliver the lotus flower to Kuro before even taking into consideration his physical wellbeing, and so Kuro, after expressing his gratitude, had to urge him to go see Emma to have his wounds cleaned and bandaged. They will disappear in no more than the course of the night, and Kuro knows that, left to himself, Wolf would probably carry the gushes on his skin as they were until they vanished, but, this time, he was agreeable enough to humour his master and let Lady Emma tend to him.

Kuro can see now clean cloth wrapping around his right forearm and going up under his sleeve. Wolf is wearing a simple yukata, probably not because he is going to actually rest, but because it was requested by Emma to better take care of his wounds. He still sports his discolored scarf loosely around his neck, and Kuro thinks he is so peculiar sometimes. But he finds it heartwarming; those are signs that Wolf is his own person too, a human with a few oddities like everyone else, and not the inapproachable weapon they once told him he was. Wolf has a beating heart just like himself, and a mind of his own that has proven time and time again to be loyal and compassionate, even if he is strong enough to lock it away and not let it interfere with his duty- Or, maybe, even finding his own resolve thanks to such feelings. Kuro wishes he could do the same with that kind of effectiveness. To not endlessly dwell on the thought of the lives and the deaths he carries on his shoulders for being who he is, and just move forward. To accept that his own death is the correct way to atone, and the only one that will bring the best outcome for this terrible situation. He tries, though- Oh, he tries.

He buries his head in books and journals and dusty notes, and reads and reads and reads, trying to be useful, to make a breakthrough on their quest, to keep himself as busy as everyone else is. Even at night, when, just like this night, the guilt and the doubt catch up with him and prevent him from sleeping, he wraps a thick coat over his shoulders to fend off the cold and sits on the library to keep his mind working on anything that can be of use. Returning his gaze to the pile of books, he takes the one on the top- It’s another journal, its cover stained with ink and the loose pages held inside precariously.

“It is late. The books will still be here tomorrow,” Wolf says, his voice respectful.

Kuro knows he must be worried about his lack of rest, but, while he is thankful for that, he shakes his head softly.

“Even if I were on bed, I wouldn’t be able to rest properly. It is better to occupy my time with something productive instead of remaining idle,” he explains, offering Wolf a small smile. “But, please, do not concern yourself with me right now. You must be tired. You may retire to rest if you wish.”

But Wolf bows his head slightly and says, “I am in no need of rest.”

Kuro knows he will not convince him otherwise, so he asks, “come closer, then. Let me tell you about what I have found.”

Which, to be honest, is not much, but he thinks that maybe, if he goes over it again out loud, he would be able to piece something together. However, after Wolf relocates to a spot on the floor near him and his books, and after Kuro recites to him the few relevant details he could collect, he still feels like he hasn’t advanced at all. As he has already realized, they have enough material to go on about the rest of the elements needed for the incense, but, when it comes to the wood from the sakura tree, all their clues lead to nothing. The discouragement on his voice is probably noticeable, because Wolf seemingly takes upon himself to try to reassure him.

“We should continue that line of research after we obtain the Mortal Blade,” he says.

Kuro nods with his head, but lets out a soft sigh. He should be able to do better than this, to at least do something useful with his time and aid them properly on their quest. He was able to provide them with the necessary leads for all of the other ingredients they need, but the actual task of collecting them has naturally fallen on Wolf’s shoulders, and Kuro wants to help him as much as he can. Merely waiting for his return doesn’t sit well with him, especially when remaining unoccupied means having to confront his own thoughts.

“We are close,” Kuro murmurs, though, to encourage himself too, even with the clear conflict that achieving their goal represents for him.

Leaving the neglected journal on the floor, he reaches for the lotus flower on the shelf and takes it gently between his fingers. Even against his pale hand, the petals seem to glow softly with their own ethereal light. Its shape is so perfect that it almost has a surreal quality to it, like it has been taken out of a painting.

“It is a wonder. That such a beautiful flower could bloom in that kind of place,” he says, the strong fragrance delightful, but slightly overwhelming at such a close distance.

Wolf just looks at him in silence.

“We will do this. I’ll honor your efforts, and we will end the Dragon’s Heritage.” Kuro knows he may be repeating himself, but he finds a subtle comfort in saying it while on Wolf’s company. It makes him feel like he is making a promise, and that helps to appease his uneasiness, at least a little.

They fall into an easy quietness after that. Kuro returns the flower to its shelf and takes the journal on his hands again, still thinking it’s worth to have another read, just in case.

Kuro wakes up as he feels his body losing balance, and then being supported firmly by a warm, solid something. Gravity pulls on him, yet he still moves. What is happening? Did he fall asleep without noticing? It takes him a moment to reorientate himself, to realize he is on Wolf’s arms, and that he is carrying him somewhere. His mind still slightly dazed, he remembers vaguely the conversation he had with Wolf on the library and, afterwards, focusing in the reading of some book. He must have fallen asleep then; it was very late, after all, and he had insisted on exhausting his mind after not being able to rest by more conventional methods. It seems the tiredness finally caught up with him by surprise, because he cannot pinpoint what happened after certain moment. He can guess, though, that he fell asleep and Wolf, feeling sympathy for him, took him on his arms to carry him to the small room he has taken as a bedroom for the time being. His head is comfortably nested against Wolf’s shoulder, and he leans into it a bit more. He smells of gunpowder and blood, and Kuro finds it comforting. It’s the scent Wolf carries with him at all times, even now, after he washed to get rid of the blood of the beast he defeated, so it’s only natural that he has come to expect and appreciate it. It’s just- He maybe appreciates it a bit more than he should.

The room they enter is small, bare and dim, barely illuminated by a lone candle near the wall. It is located just opposite to the library, and only furnished with a bulky chest, a shelf with some trinkets and a cushioned looking futon in the center. It was not meant to be an actual resting room, but, after Genichiro was driven away from the castle, Kuro preferred to remain up there, near the books and the lookout, and slightly removed from the rest of its inhabitants. Wolf approaches the bed in a couple of steps and kneels on the floor to put him down on the mattress with gentle movements.

“My lord,” Wolf says, in a voice lower than the usual, and bows his head to him.

As it usually happens, sleeping properly doesn’t seem to be in Wolf’s plans, at least for the time being. There is another futon folded in the corner of the room, requested by Kuro should Wolf want to rest near him for his protection, but it has never been used. Wolf doesn’t spend most nights indoors, instead employing his idle time in keeping vigilance around the roofs or scouting the lands for signs of external threats, which they know are looming closer with each passing day. Even if it’s his job and what he trained for all his life, Kuro laments the fact that Wolf doesn’t have a single moment of respite. He is not well received in castle grounds, and so being around what have become Kuro’s quarters is as dangerous to him as his expeditions to the core of the land.

Kuro wishes he could give Wolf an argument convincing enough for him to stay to rest for once. He wishes he could see him relax his face and his body into sleep just for a couple of hours, to let his wounds heal properly. He wishes he can be the one watching over Wolf’s wellbeing, just for one night. He wishes he could tell- could _show_ \- how much Wolf means to him, how much all Wolf is doing means to him. He wishes. But he wishes too much sometimes, and he realizes that some of the things he wishes for have no actual place in the real world. He knows what Wolf will say if he even hints at anything of the sort. That he is fine as he is. That it’s his duty to protect and veil for Kuro’s safety. Yes, he knows. And so, he doesn’t do more than put a gentle hand over Wolf’s shoulder, look up at him with a soft smile that fails to reach his eyes, and whisper, “good night, Wolf.”

Wolf departs towards Senpou Temple the next day at dusk, and, afterwards, everything changes.

* * *

He has taken a like to sit in front of the burning incense most nights, the mess of books and journals on the floor now accompanying him in the main room at the top of the castle. Honoring its rare, valuable components, the incense never seems to die down; it has been several days since it was lit, and the light, deeply aromatic haze that floats into the cold air from its burning core has not shown sign of waning any time soon. Kuro wonders if it will still be there, on its neverending burn, even after he is gone, even after Ashina is gone.

Tonight is a quiet night, and that doesn’t sit well with him. Their invaders favor the coat of the wintery darkness to advance, and that has been the pattern they have shown since their first strike at the edge of the castle grounds, a few nights ago. However, this night, already advanced, has been silent and uneventful. The logical conclusion is that they must be scheming something. And, if they take the Ashina forces by surprise once more, their chances will be slimmer than they already are.

Kuro doesn’t realize he has been lost on his own thoughts until a soft, collected voice speaks from behind him.

“Lord Kuro?”

Turning his head, Kuro acknowledges Lady Emma with a nod, his semblance not less serious than it was before.

“With your permission, I will retire for the night,” Emma says, bowing her head gracefully and collecting the vials and rags around her into a small wooden tray.

Kuro nods again, and his gaze wanders to Wolf, who is sitting right next to her, having just been patched up by her expert, dexterous hands. Emma stands up with the tray between her fingers, and bows once more.

“It would do you both good to rest as much as you can,” she says, her voice kind but firm. “Have a good night.”

“Good night to you too,” Kuro responds, his expression slightly sheepish.

He has promised time and time again to Lady Emma that he would try to rest more hours than the bare few he has been sleeping since all this madness started, but the pallor of his face and his tired eyes when he greets her every morning are evidence enough of his lack of commitment towards it. She doesn’t say anything, even though she notices, but, at night, doesn’t miss the opportunity to remind him once again. Lately, she has been doing it towards Wolf too. They seem a bit closer nowadays, Lady Emma and Wolf, and Kuro wonders if, even on her extraordinarily collected demeanor, she is starting to get actually worried about the fate of Ashina, and, especially, of Lord Isshin.

Emma disappears behind a sliding door, her quiet steps on the stairs fading away slowly, and Kuro’s eyes return to Wolf, following his movements as the man fixes the light yukata he is wearing (again, at the request of Kuro and the physician, to let her work better on his wounds) and rolls loosely his familiar scarf around his shoulders. There is a bandage that cross his chest from his ribs to his shoulder, another one that envelops most of his upper arm, and a clean but still open cut visible on his jaw. The rest of his cuts and bruises seem to have subdued and healed already, but Kuro has never seen Wolf this badly wounded ever before. _Where was he?_ He had been away from the first light of the morning that day, and returned to Kuro’s quarters past dusk, covered in blood again; this time, however, most of it _was_ his. Where had he been, to be so badly wounded like this? Who did he confront? Was he careless? No, he was never careless. Maybe he was ambushed? It had happened before, but only because he was out of shape, out of practice. Nowadays, Wolf is as alert as Kuro has ever seen him. He had offered a vague answer when he asked, and, even though Kuro didn’t push him for a better explanation, he cannot help to be concerned.

After all, whatever happened to Wolf, it’s his fault. He is stalling the next step of their quest just because he wants to have a little more time, and that is starting to prove to be a big mistake. He knows Wolf is hesitant to leave his side now that the Ministry’s menace is closing on Ashina, and he is doing nothing more than exploiting Wolf’s pledge to protect him by not ordering him away already. He should have told him to go, to find his way to the Divine Realm- he should have done it days ago, immediately after the incense was completed and lit, and Wolf was recovered from his confrontation with Owl.

Kuro returns his head to his natural position, and casts his eyes towards the incense once more. He tries to return as less as he can to that. The thought of Wolf being forced to kill his own father still elicits a sharp pain on his chest every time his mind goes there. Not because he regrets Owl’s death- It had to be done, he knows. But Wolf... Killing Owl has been the most raw proof of his loyalty to Kuro and his cause, but he still wishes things were different. He wishes so many things were different. But he catches himself before he goes on with that line of thinking. It’s of no use to lament such things now, after all. If he wants to be strong as Wolf is, as everyone around him is, he needs to push forward, even if his heart yearns for some things he will never have. He _is_ afraid, he can admit that much, at least to himself. But he finds he also is the most determined he has ever been to end this curse. All the things he knows now, all the sacrifices everyone is making for this... It’s the only possible conclusion, and he will see it through.

“Wolf?”

“Yes, my lord?”

Kuro stands up from his spot on the floor, and turns again to look at Wolf with soft eyes. “Will you keep me company until I fall asleep?”

“Yes, my lord.”

They have been repeating the same routine the last few nights. Wolf escorts him to his bedroom, Kuro insists he catches a few hours of sleep too, Wolf refuses him gently but stays with him until he, after a bit of tossing and failed attempts, finally falls asleep. It reminds him fondly of his life on Hirata, that now seems to have happened so long ago. Wolf still indulges him in such trivial and silly requests, and it fills his chest with such a sweet warmth. It’s one of the few things that still does, that makes him want to smile genuinely. And that makes everything worthwhile, doesn’t it? With the end of the Dragon’s Heritage, Wolf will also be free from the pain and suffering of bearing such a curse, and Kuro truly hopes he can find some kind of peace afterwards.

As he walks towards the room he has taken as his quarters, with Wolf closely behind him, Kuro thinks that, maybe, tomorrow will be the day he finally asks him to prepare for his travel to the Divine Realm, the day they finally take the last step.

“Will you rest for a bit too?” he asks, as always.

“It will be best if I remain alert,” Wolf answers, as always.

The room is cold, as always, and the lone candle radiates a soft, dim light, as always. Kuro approaches his futon and sits on it, as always, and Wolf kneels at his side to wish him a good night, as always. And he is going to stand up to walk towards the window and remain there, his presence quiet and comforting, until Kuro is able to fall asleep. As always. Except-

“Good night, my lord,” Wolf says, bowing his head towards him.

As always, Kuro should remain where he is. He should return Wolf’s wishes for him to have a good rest of the night too. He should let Wolf stand up and walk to the window to watch over him until he gives in to sleep. He should.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he sits up, kneeling just in front of him, and touches Wolf’s wrist with small, hesitant fingers.

“Wolf. Wait.” He feels his heart leaping wildly on his chest, and his fingertips slide softly from Wolf’s wrist to his hand. “Don’t go yet.”

The coat Kuro had over his shoulders fell over the mattress when he sat up abruptly, and he feels the chilled air through the thin robe he wears to bed. His face feels so heated, though, that he can almost ignore the coldness completely. Wolf’s skin is also quite warm under his touch, and so Kuro takes his hand and guides it towards himself, until it’s close enough for him to press his lips against Wolf’s knuckles.

He knows he _should not_ be doing this, should not be kissing this softly, this intimately his shinobi’s hand. But, if this is the last night he has to be as close to Wolf as he can, he has to do it. He may not forgive himself afterwards if he doesn’t. His loyal Wolf- He feels so grateful to him, so full of affection- Even through everything that had been thrown at them, his loyalty has remained relentless and unwavering, even to a point he had never expected. And Kuro has tried, he has always tried, to be as detached as possible, to be composed and serene, but the truth is that sometimes he cannot fight against how much he feels for him, especially now, with his deadline looming so closely over him.

Kuro moves his face away from Wolf’s knuckles, just a bit, and guides his hand now downwards, to hold it firmly against the center of his chest. Wolf doesn’t put an ounce of resistance, just lets him do as he wishes, as expected. What kind of expression is he making, if any at all? Kuro doesn’t dare to look up at him yet, though. So many times he has thought of approaching him like this, and yet only now, under the threat of not having any other chance to do so, he has gathered enough courage to make a move. He doesn’t wish to put Wolf in an uncomfortable position if he can help it, though, nor break the trust that exists between them with his selfish desires. He has convinced himself out of doing this time and time again in the past. Should he do it this time too...?

No. It may be selfish, but it’s the only selfish thing he will permit himself to do. He’s not willing to reach the end of the line without at least having this once.

“Wolf? Could I ask... a favor from you?”

It’s fortunate that Wolf has an extraordinary hearing sense, because his words come out from his mouth as quiet and small as they possibly can.

“Of course,” Wolf says, his response quick, his voice steady.

It’s embarrassing to do it, but Kuro finally looks up at him before speaking, because it would feel cowardly to not do so while asking such a thing.

“Would you... touch me more, like this...?” he asks, in what is probably the least articulate question that has ever came from his mouth.

The response doesn't come as immediately as the previous one and, judging by his expression, Wolf seems to have been taken off guard for a second. It’s just a moment- Afterwards, Kuro sees his usual frown deepen even more. He feels his own face incredibly hot, his flushed skin probably glowing under the dim light of the lone candle. His heart is beating so hard, he is sure Wolf can hear it clear and loud, or at least feel it through the hand pressed against his chest. Even if he didn’t express himself in the most eloquent way (it was a disaster of a question, to be quite honest), he can see in Wolf’s eyes that he understands perfectly what Kuro is asking for, and he seems to seek for something on Kuro’s own gaze. He wonders for a moment if Wolf will actually reject him- This has nothing to do with his job, does it?

“Please,” Kuro whispers, before he can catch his tongue, and his plead comes out so raw, so unusually vulnerable, that he thinks he can see something soften in Wolf’s eyes.

Then, Wolf says, “...As you wish.”

Well, of course. _Of course._ Wolf is so kind to him, and Kuro feels so terribly selfish- did he just manipulated Wolf into accepting such a request? But he also feels so genuinely excited about his response. Trying to hold Wolf’s gaze as best as he can and to not lose resolve, Kuro approaches him a bit more, kneeling just at the edge of the futon, mere centimeters away from his body. And, without much preamble, and with very slow movements, to not let his eagerness get the worst of him, he undoes the belt of his own yukata and parts his robes. After a rustle of fabric, he exposes most of his skin to the coldness of the room, the open yukata hanging precariously from his shoulders. Wolf’s proximity and the warmth he feels running through his veins is enough for him to not pay much attention to the low temperature, though. He takes Wolf’s hand on his again, and softly presses it against the middle of his chest, over the silvery, small scar left by the Mortal Blade- then pushes it a bit higher, towards his collarbones and the soft center of his throat, and guides it to cup the side of his neck. Only then, finally, _finally_ Wolf moves his fingers by himself, hesitantly, curling them gently around the shape of Kuro’s jaw, even daring to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Wolf’s hand is so warm and heavy and coarse, and Kuro forgets how to breathe for a second, feeling incapable to move or to look away from Wolf’s dark, dark eyes, that still frown down at him, but in such an intense way that it makes him lightheaded.

“Please, go on,” Kuro says, in a whisper. They are so close to each other, it seems to him that any sound above that may be too much.

It still takes a moment, and a slight push from Kuro’s fingers, for Wolf to move his hand again, but he slowly, although still uncertain, traces the partially covered curve of Kuro’s shoulder, moving downwards to his chest once more. Kuro has to break the eye contact, lowering his head a bit. He needs to press his lips shut tight and try to regulate his breathing rhythm- he feels he cannot do anything against his flushed skin and his thundering heart, though, and he is a bit embarrassed about it. Maybe he is too inexperienced, or too sensitive, but Wolf’s hand seems to leave a burning trace on his skin, as it caresses the pale scar on his chest, the outline of his ribs, curls just for a moment in the contour of his waist, and then slides down to his lower abdomen. Kuro is amazed at how that hand, that has slayed their enemies and every obstacle on their way mercilessly, one by one, is now touching him so gently, so softly. His fingers are coarse and rough, compared to Kuro’s own unblemished skin, but they still feel lovely, and carry with them such warmth. Trusting that Wolf knows exactly what he wants for him to do, Kuro leans towards him a bit more and supports himself with one hand on Wolf’s shoulder, and the other on the upper part of his odd-looking, sturdy prosthetic arm.

However, when, without much warning, Wolf caresses his hardness with the back of his fingers (so softly, so carefully), Kuro has to retrieve one of his hands to press it against his own lips, to try to muffle the half-sigh, half-moan that escapes from his mouth involuntarily. That was... very straight to the point on Wolf’s part. But Kuro is relieved, really, because, although Wolf’s hand on other parts of his body feels incredibly good too, he’s embarrassingly aroused and _there_ is exactly where he wants his hand right now. The thing is, he cannot let himself make this kind of sound. Not only because it’s not very dignified of him, but, more importantly, because he doesn’t want to attract anyone else to them just because he is being too noisy, especially on this eerily quiet night. Wolf’s hand, though, doesn’t continue with the motion; instead, it awaits idle, frozen mid-air between them.

“My lord?”

Ah. Is he just worried about him?

“It feels good. Please, continue,” he says in a bit of a rushed whisper.

Wolf is scrutinizing his face too closely, as if trying to guess what is exactly happening on his mind, to verify that this is precisely what Kuro wishes for. Kuro has asked for him to continue, though, and so Wolf continues, taking him on his hand again and sliding rough but careful fingers through hot, flushed, tense skin. Kuro bites his lower lip sharply at the electrifying contact, and doubles the pressure on it with his teeth as Wolf’s hand closes in a firm grip around his hardness. The beginning of a shiver starts to unfold at the base of his spine. No one has ever touched him like this, and having a hand on him that is not his own feels so... different. It’s suffocating, the grasp hot and coarse, almost enveloping him entirely- Kuro puts great effort into not letting himself go, because the throaty sounds he is making are mortifying and loud enough, but it feels extraordinarily good. Wolf’s body in front of him is so close and so warm, his smell familiar and comforting, and Kuro presses his face against his shoulder. To muffle his mouth, yes, but also because he wants to be as close as possible to him.

Wolf’s hand moves steadily, with a nice pace; not that fast, but enough for Kuro to feel like he is about to completely fall apart on his arms. The heat is so tight on his belly, and it tightens more and more, as it spreads to his legs and his chest and his throat. He has enough presence of mind to still try to do something about his running mouth- Such lack of self-control. Wolf is probably not proud of him at all. But he needs to do something about it, the pleasure mounting on the center of his body and the center of his head- Without even thinking about it twice, he grabs a mouthful of Wolf’s scarf with his teeth and bites hard into the fabric. It doesn’t erase the sounds completely, but it works quite decently. He barely has time to actually pay any mind to the dusty, gunpowdery taste, because he ends up losing control of himself so much faster than he had thought he would- When he comes, he doesn’t know if he has made a lot of noise, or how much did he thrust his hips against Wolf’s hand- On his head, there is only blinding, white hot pleasure, and Wolf’s warmth against him and all around him.

Kuro seems to awake to the real world in pieces. Short of breath, he lets the portion of scarf on his mouth go. He feels his heart pound everywhere, and thinks that, if he wasn’t almost completely resting against Wolf, he would have fallen down to the floor already. His body feels weak, his skin is too heated, and he doesn’t know what is wrong with him. He should feel sated, shouldn’t he? But he doesn’t, he doesn’t feel sated at all- It surely felt amazing, but he still wants, he wants so much.

Wolf doesn’t move a muscle of the rest of his body, but slowly retrieves the hand he still had loosely curled around Kuro’s cock, which, still half hard, doesn’t seem to have giving up yet. And neither does Kuro, who quickly stops that hand with his own. Wolf’s fingers are slippery with his seed, and Kuro guides it back to his body, pressing it softly against his thigh. What he really wants... He doesn’t know how to ask for it, really. He doesn’t even imagine how it could feel good, but he has read about it, and he is so deep into this- He yearns for that kind of intimacy, to inhabit for a moment the same space of someone he loves, to be held in such a way that he can wrap himself in a warm embrace and forget everything just for a blessed moment.

He wishes Wolf would take a hint and lead him. He wants to lose himself even more on his rough, gentle hands and the warmth of his body. But it would be too selfish of him to ask for such a thing, wouldn’t it? Even more so than what he is already asking for. Still, he guides Wolf’s hand lower and deeper into him, to the inside of his thigh and past his groin. Wolf doesn’t offer any resistance to the movement, but Kuro notices his touch is hesitant again.

Kuro looks up at him, for the first time in a while, and is a bit surprised to encounter Wolf’s face much closer than he had thought, as if he were almost resting his head over Kuro’s hair- maybe wishing to do so, but not daring to. His expression is undeniably softer than it was before, but still closed enough for Kuro to not know what he is actually thinking about this, about everything. And, although he thinks of himself as a decently articulated person, right in this moment he is having trouble trying to formulate anything barely intelligible. How does one express this kind of thing, anyway?

“Wolf? Could you- maybe-?” he starts, and immediately wishes he could have phrased it differently.

Wolf is still frowning, as always, but he doesn’t seem confused, just cautious, and probably even more hesitant. He has to know where this is going, doesn’t he? It seems pretty obvious to Kuro, with the way he is trying to guide his hand- Why is he having such trouble to spell it out, then?

“My lord, this...” Wolf starts to say, his voice the lowest that Kuro has ever heard it, but he interrupts him before Wolf can think too much about how potentially wrong everything about this is.

“Wolf. Would you do it for me?” Kuro asks, his voice soft, cupping Wolf’s jaw with his free hand, trying to sound much more confident than he actually feels.

Wolf doesn’t say anything for a moment, and they look at each other in a silence that seems charged with so many things left unsaid.

Kuro, however, has to say something sooner or later. “I know I have no right to ask you for this,” he whispers, retrieving the hand from his face and the one that kept Wolf’s softly pressed against him. He is already grateful towards him for complying with his selfish desires on the first place, and-

With a quick but gentle movement, Wolf takes Kuro’s hand and brings it back to him. The smooth fingers of his prosthetic hand are cold, but they move so smoothly, as if they were a seamless part of his body. Wolf presses Kuro’s fingers gently against his mouth- he doesn’t kiss them, as Kuro did before with his knuckles, but it’s a tender gesture nonetheless, and Kuro feels something soft and warm bubble on his chest at it.

“I’ll do as you wish.”

Kuro tries to keep the control over his own emotions at such a response. It’s a bit overwhelming, what he feels- Gratefulness, nervousness, excitement. Deep down, he knows he should also be feeling significantly more guilty about this than he actually does, and that it will probably come back to haunt him later, after the fault is already done, to make him feel terrible for abusing his shinobi’s unending loyalty for something as trivial as this. But he locks down the thought in the back of his mind, at least for now, and, after slowly nodding at him, removes himself from Wolf’s personal space to stand up. The air is colder than he remembered against his still warm, mostly exposed skin, and he immediately misses Wolf’s comforting closeness. He walks away, though, on slightly shaky legs, towards the only other pieces of furniture in the room, the lone chest with the shelf above it, both surfaces cluttered with Kuro’s spare possessions: his daytime garments, a short knife that was gifted to him time ago but he never carries on his person, a small stack of books that had found their way to his resting room with him. Over the shelf, there are lined three wooden vials, all of them gifts from Lady Emma, containing softly scented soaps or lotions that she had thought would improve Kuro’s mood at least a bit on his imprisonment. Like the brilliant gourd she designed, maybe they also contain some medicinal properties, but, although thankful for the lovely gesture, Kuro has never used them. He feels his cheeks get heated again when his fingers close around one of them, as this is not a novel idea that just occurred to him- He _has_ thought of using them for this before, on those unrestful nights where he wondered if he would ever gather enough courage to actually ask Wolf for it.

He takes the vial with him and returns to the futon. Wolf hasn’t moved from his position, just followed him across the room with his dark, solemn eyes. Kuro kneels on the mattress once more and, after leaving carefully the small jar on the floor next to them, looks up at him.

“It’s some kind of lotion. I thought it could be useful,” he says, his voice actually softer and steadier than he thought it would be. He feels quite awkward and shy, neither of which he is very accustomed to- Does Wolf feel the same way? His expression hasn’t changed one bit, but his posture seems somewhat stiffer than before, as if his whole body has tensed up.

“Should I... lie down?” Kuro asks, almost in a whisper.

Wolf looks at him with a subtle expression that seems to convey that he is not actually sure of how to respond to that, but he still lets out a low, “yes”.

So Kuro does, he lies face up on the mattress, the anticipation on his chest doing a decent enough job of distracting him from the cold. His open robe only covers his shoulders and a portion of his arms now, leaving the rest of him open and exposed to the freezing night and the warm glow of the candle. Wolf, though, has lowered his head and his eyes, probably trying to keep his stance respectful, even in this kind of situation. Kuro finds it endearing, but they won’t go anywhere if they don’t break down even more of the barriers that stand between them.

“Wolf,” he says his name, so soft and so gentle.

“My lord.”

It still takes a moment for Wolf to dare look at him in the eyes. Even though his face holds more or less the same expression as always, Kuro sees the hesitation in his movements, as he reaches for the small wooden vial with his prosthetic hand and slowly moves closer to him. Then, something on his face does change: his frown deepens, as if he isn’t sure how to proceed- Or maybe he does, and just doesn’t dare to. Far from being discouraged, Kuro takes Wolf’s right hand and guides it once more towards his own body, pressing Wolf’s coarse palm against his upper thigh, opening his legs slightly to let his fingers dip into its inner warmth. Merely centimeters away, his cock throbs with interest at the touch, and Kuro tries to not let himself feel too shy or modest about it, or the fact that it’s just there, in plain sight, and now Wolf _is_ looking down at him. His attention, though, seems to be on his hand, that, still under the guidance of Kuro’s own, goes deeper and deeper into his inner thigh, bypassing his small testicles to finally graze against the smooth, heated skin behind them.

Kuro gasps, and Wolf’s eyes snap back to his face, maybe worried that he has done something wrong- Kuro, though, guides his fingers deeper still, opening his legs more to give him a comfortable access. When one of Wolf’s fingertips presses so very gently against his entrance, his heart rate picks up, even if he tries to appear as composed as possible. It feels so intimate and exhilarating, that he retains Wolf’s hand against him as if he could keep going like this. Wolf, though, applies a mild resistance to the movement, just enough to make Kuro look up at him with a question on his flushed face.

“My lord. The lotion,” Wolf says, his voice reduced again to a soft whisper, but steady and firm as always.

Not for the first time, Kuro wishes he could have that kind of control over his own body. “Yes- Yes, of course,” he mutters, his words slightly breathy and rushed.

He lets Wolf’s hand go, and Wolf occupies himself with opening the vial. After sniffing the content, maybe looking for anything off about it, he dips two fingers into the substance. It’s colorless and smooth, seemingly quite oily, and has a subtle floral scent that reaches Kuro’s nose as Wolf rubs his fingers against each other. It takes a second or two for Kuro to understand what he is doing, until he realizes that the lotion is most surely quite cold. When he seems to be done, Wolf looks at him, probably waiting for some kind of cue, a reaffirmation that this is what Kuro actually wishes for.

“Come closer,” Kuro says, then, in a low voice, trying to be reassuring, but probably not being able to hide the anticipation building in the center of his chest.

He shifts his body to achieve a more comfortable position, and opens his legs to ease Wolf’s task, paying no mind, or trying not to, to the intense heat pooling on his cheeks and on his lower belly at the boldness of his own actions. So very slowly, Wolf does as told, getting closer still, vial and lotion in hand, to kneel between Kuro’s slender, parted legs. His face betrays very little, as expected, but his movements are a bit stiff, and his right hand hovers for a moment in mid-air, his hesitation evident.

“Please, go on. I am ready for it,” Kuro commands softly. He doesn’t want to come off as overbearing, not in this situation, but he has come to terms with the fact that to gently tell Wolf how to proceed may just be the best way to go on, so his shinobi can be absolutely sure that this, seemingly a great transgression in his eyes, is only what Kuro wants for him to do.

“Yes,” comes the immediate response from Wolf, but it still takes a moment before he reaches with his oily fingers for Kuro’s thigh.

His hand seems much less coarse when coated with the thick lotion, and the contact is as warm and smooth as it can be. His fingers rub gently the innermost part of his leg, and then make their way back to the hot, soft, tight entrance- Kuro’s breath hitches, but Wolf doesn’t stop this time around. It feels, well, quite strange. But also good, definitely good. Kuro’s skin seems to be particularly sensitive down there, and the careful rubbing motion of Wolf’s fingertips, sliding warmly thanks to the oily substance, makes him feel a lovely tickling-like sensation somewhere inside of him, somewhere he isn’t sure he knew it was there before, or that it could be made to feel like that.

Kuro tries to breathe deeply to not lose control of his lungs, that seem to want to process air as erratically as possible. The truth is, he doesn’t know much about this with great detail. He has read about it on a few dusty journals, stories narrating furtive, exciting encounters between lovers in the middle of the darkest of nights. Which of those were true, and which mere titillating fictional fantasies, he isn’t really sure, but they surely sparked curiousness and eagerness on him. It all sounded so poetic, so thrilling. Now, finally finding himself in such a situation, he thinks he couldn’t have anticipated how heated his skin could get only by a caress, or how fast his heart would beat at being under his beloved Wolf’s gaze in such a vulnerable state.

What he knows, though, or at least he thinks so, is that he needs to be calm, be patient, and soften his body as best as he can. It only sounds logical, isn’t it? And it must be right, since Wolf only presses more firmly against him once his efforts to keep somewhat relaxed are more or less fruitful. Kuro is only vaguely aware of Wolf pouring some more lotion directly over his hand, of the aromatic oil rolling thickly through his own skin. He feels like in a bit of a feverish, aroused haze, in which he can only think of the place Wolf is caressing so intently-

That is, of course, until Wolf actually presses his finger in, and its tip slides inside of him.

Kuro inhales sharply, and tenses his body completely again. “Ah- I apologize- It took me by surprise-,” he blurts out immediately, not wanting for Wolf to stop, or to slow down, or to lose the small confident momentum he had just gained.

Wolf still scrutinizes him, though, looking for actual discomfort or regretfulness about all of this on Kuro’s face.

“Do continue. Please,” Kuro says, doing his best to regain control of himself.

It truly doesn’t feel uncomfortable or painful; he’s just too eager, the anticipation beating hard in the core of his body. And, well, he’s completely inexperienced in this matter, of course. Thankfully, though, he hasn’t spooked Wolf yet, and, after a moment, he does try again. It’s such a strange sensation, nonetheless! As he forces his muscles to remain loose and calm (as much as he can, at least), Wolf slides his finger inside of him again and, very slowly, bit by bit, presses more and more of it through the tight entrance. It’s most definitely strange, but Wolf’s thumb still caress him in all the nice points around that particular place, and so the novelty of such a sensation mixes with the pleasurable attentions and Kuro has to make a conscious effort to remember how to breathe.

Kuro takes a deep, deep breath when Wolf’s finger is almost all in, as he feels the warmth of his knuckles pressed against his skin, both himself and Wolf’s hand covered in a mess of lotion. Looking back and forth between that place and Kuro’s face, Wolf seems to be more at ease now, if at least just a bit, but still sharply mindful of his reactions. His expression appears focused, if anything, and Kuro guesses that putting precise, conscious effort in a physical task is probably what he does best, even if it’s something like this.

He wonders, though, if it is going to feel... better, at some point. Wolf’s finger is in, and he moves it with incredible gentleness around, trying to begin to stretch him a bit. It is somewhat pleasant to force his muscles to relax like this while being handled in a way that strips him of actual control over what is happening to his body, and everything feels hot and slippery and silk smooth. But... It still feels just strange, for the most part. Not painful at all, at least; he cannot be made to bleed by common means, and that is true for every part of him, so there is no chance of him of getting hurt or feeling too much pain- Or so he thinks, at least. However, he certainly was under the impression that it was going to feel better, really. He had felt more than a bit heated under the collar when, on his sordid journals, he had read the accounts of people writing about this and the pleasurable intensity they felt.

He will just endure it, though. His actual objective with all of this was to feel closer to Wolf, after all, to bask on his warmth and share his own and, well, this is a required step for it, isn’t it? It may be a bit disappointing, of course, but it doesn’t actually feel _that_ bad-

Kuro’s line of thought is cut short by a jolt that sparks from somewhere inside of him, and makes him feel like he has actually tried to jump entirely out of his skin. A loud, pitiful yelp escapes from his lips without giving him any chance of anticipate it or preventing it, and he agitatedly slaps a hand against his mouth, although it’s entirely too late.

“My lord?” There is recognizable distress in Wolf’s voice this time around, and he has ceased all kind of movement of his hand and his fingers.

“Wolf- Do _that_ once more-”, Kuro mutters, though, his voice slightly high-pitched, muffled by his hand but still audible.

He may have sounded very convinced of what he was asking for, since Wolf immediately complies with his request, this time not hesitating at all when he caresses the exact same place inside of him again. It’s definitely the single most peculiar sensation Kuro has ever experienced. It feels like Wolf is caressing something inside of him that makes his head go into the most blissful blank state, that makes all of his skin tingle, and a warmth wave of pleasure expand from the _inside_ of his cock to the rest of his body. Ah, yes- His neglected, hard cock- He thinks that, if he even brushes it right now, he is going to burst.

He takes back everything he was thinking before- It feels so good, he only half notices how Wolf slowly pushes a second finger into him bit by bit, taking his time, focusing mainly on caressing him from inside, and only taking short pauses to let his body acclimate to the presence of a another digit. It feels so good and, at the same time, it’s slightly tortuous; all of his body wants more, more of that delightful sensation, more of Wolf inside of him.

However, when Wolf does get a third finger inside of him, it’s a bit more than he was expecting, and the stretching sensation becomes uncomfortable for a moment. He realizes he has arched his back in an attempt to adjust his body only after a moment, and that Wolf has slowed down his rhythm only when his own throat stops working. Was he actually being that loud as he moaned into the back of his hand all along?

“My lord? Do you wish to stop?” Wolf asks, and Kuro feels his skin shiver at the sound of his deep, low voice, which actually sounds just a bit out of breath, even if he is doing nothing more than kneeling there and fingering him.

“N-no. No, I don’t,” Kuro’s voice is weak, but his words are absolutely determined.

Wolf looks at him, though, his gaze rolling through his body in a way that it didn’t before, his ever-present frown in place. “...You are trembling,” he says.

“Am I?” Kuro gains support with his arms on the mattress and grounds his hips against Wolf’s hand, letting out a small sound at the stretching sensation- even _that_ is beginning to feel quite pleasurable now. He feels his body is starting to get completely out of the feeble control of his cloudy mind, and it’s a feeling he is finding himself liking quite a bit.

Cold, unnaturally smooth fingers close on a firm grip around his waist, and something soft flutters on the pit of Kuro’s stomach. Wolf probably wants to keep him from moving too much, maybe to not create discomfort for himself on his eagerness, but it has the exact opposite effect- He yearns for Wolf’s closeness and touch, so being held like this is exactly what he wants. A soft moan breaks past the hand he has plastered against his mouth again.

“I apologize,” Wolf says. It may be that he thinks the feeling of an old, artificial hand is not the most welcomed sensation for Kuro right now, but _it is_ , of course it is. He had hoped things were different, and his thoughts have not been kind to him in regards to the loss of Wolf’s arm, but, after all that has happened, he has come to think of the prosthetic as such a distinct part of him.

“Don’t. It feels good,” Kuro whispers, and caresses with trembling fingers the cold arm at his waist. His hand slides across worn-out bone and rough metallic pieces, and he tries to focus on the sharp, coarse textures under his fingertips, only to not surrender himself completely to the rest of the sensations his body is going through. Not yet, at least- Not yet.

But the arousal resounds on every part of his body, on all corners of his mind and the entire surface of his heated skin, and his patience wears thin. He is entirely thankful for Wolf’s effort and the graciousness with which he is taking this situation, but the bubble of anticipation on his chest is going to explode if he waits any longer.

“Wolf. You may stop now,” Kuro says, and immediately, although carefully, Wolf does so, retrieving his fingers slowly.

Curiously, after acclimating to them, now being deprived of such an intrusion is what feels strange. He already misses the constant caressing of such a pleasurable spot inside of him, and has to make a conscious effort to not let himself be guided by his most raw instincts. In a not very graceful and quite unsteady movement, Kuro sits up slowly, feeling a bit lightheaded. But his legs, although shaky, are functional enough to let him kneel on the futon and approach Wolf, who is occupied in wiping his fingers clean of the oil on his garments, but still attentively following him with his gaze.

“Lie down,” he commands, his voice gentle and coming out of his lips as a breathy whisper.

As expected, Wolf doesn’t hesitate to comply with the order at all. He just lets out a low, “yes,” and proceeds to lean back on the mattress, exactly in the same spot where Kuro was just a moment before, supporting himself with both his elbows.

Looking down at Wolf, Kuro disposes of his own yukata with a soft rustle of fabric. The room must still be freezing, but he cannot feel the cold air against his small, pale body anymore. His skin is burning, as much as his insides- The chilly surroundings, in fact, are actually helping him to recover a bit of clarity, enough for him to regain a certain sense of embarrassment about his state of undressing, and what he is about to do. However, and although his cheeks feel as hot as they could possibly be, he does it, he straddles Wolf’s hips and sits over his upper legs, resting his hands on his waist, on the loose belt of the robe he still wears.

“May I?” he asks.

Wolf nods, the rest of his body completely still, not moving even a single muscle. And so, Kuro works off the belt with his slender fingers- It was only haphazardly put on, since, he knew, Wolf didn’t have the intention of staying around for long before Kuro asked him for it. His plan was, with all certainty, to ditch the yukata and the bandages as soon as he could, and dress up on his usual garments and armor to return to his duty without even thinking of actually resting or giving time to his wounds to heal. So, it’s an easy task to undo the belt and set it aside. His improvised line of thought has lead him to decide that this would be the logical, better position to keep in control of his own body as much as he can, but it may also be a pure act of boldness. As he undresses Wolf, though, he wonders for a moment what is he going to do if he is incapable of getting his shinobi in the _mood_ , so to speak.

It turns out that his brief instant of anxiety is unfounded, after all, because, even before he finishes his task, it’s apparent through the outline of his robe that Wolf is as hard as he is. He parts the garments and helps Wolf to get them off- His heart is beating so hard, and Kuro doesn’t know if it’s because how much he appreciates Wolf’s strong body, or due to the implications of Wolf’s cock being this hard even if the only thing he did was touch Kuro and didn’t receive any physical attention in turn. He feels quite mesmerized with the naked body exposed in front of him, and how strikingly different it is from his own. Not only in regards of size and strength, of course, but also in how weathered and scarred Wolf’s skin is, the marks of battles past, some silvery in color and some quite dark, adorning his body in all places. He is still wearing the bandages, but all the other gushes and bruises he sported early that evening are mostly gone. Inevitably, Kuro’s gaze is drawn to his cock, and his hands follow suit.

For some reason, he finds himself somewhat captivated by it, by its size and its shape and its hardness. He caresses the base with a very soft motion, his fingertips grazing against the dark hair around it, and then slides his hands towards the tip, his touch delicate and feather light. Wolf grunts, though- He _grunts_ , a low and deep sound from the back of his throat, and Kuro’s heart skips a beat, rising his eyes from Wolf’s cock to his face to gauge his expression. He looks as serious and his brow is as furrowed as always, but Kuro thinks he can see a noticeable agitation on his dark eyes, and entertains, for the tiniest moment, the idea of fully committing his attention to the thick, heavy cock on his hands to see more of that kind of reaction. But he stops himself before actually thinking more about it. After all, what he wants to do will feel better for Wolf too, doesn’t it? Or so he thinks.

Kuro reaches with a hand for the wooden vial of lotion, that Wolf left on the floor near them before he lay down on the mattress under his command. He pours the oil gently over his own fingers, then sets the vial aside and rubs both his hands together, remembering what Wolf did before to warm the substance a bit before making contact with his skin. When he is satisfied enough with it, he takes Wolf’s cock on his hands again, gliding smoothly all around its shape to coat it as best as he can with the thick lotion. Wolf doesn’t make a sound like before, but his cock throbs between Kuro’s fingers, and it takes a bit of effort for Kuro to convince himself of letting it go and proceed with his actual plan.

He successfully does, though, and briefly wipes his hands on the futon’s sheets beneath them. He only needs a second to find his boldness again, but doesn’t want to dwell too much into the thought of anything he is about to do, least his nervousness and his inexperience catch up with him in the worst moment. Supporting himself on Wolf’s chest, he adjusts his body and lines his hips with Wolf’s in a better position. Kuro thinks, however, that he is probably going to need a bit of assistance, so he takes Wolf’s right hand and guides it to rest on his own waist, its warmth and coarseness on his skin an immediate encouragement. Wolf catches with it in a blink, and closes his fingers firmly around his body, his strong hand probably able to manage most of Kuro’s weight and balance without much effort at all. He doesn’t apply any force to it for now, though, instead leaving Kuro to move his body as he pleases and deems adequate.

Reaching below himself for Wolf’s cock, he does his best to guide it towards him while he tries to keep his legs from trembling in anticipation and his heart from beating too hard on his chest. Feeling somewhat awkward and clumsy about the poor control he has over his body, he still manages to let Wolf penetrate him, at least with the very tip of his cock, and then all his efforts deviate to trying to keep himself as upright as he can, and somehow convince his muscles to loose and not try to reject the invasive sensation. Maybe it’s all on his head, but it feels quite different from Wolf’s fingers, the hardness of his cock much less flexible, its shape thicker and hotter.

“My lord,” Wolf says in an exhale, his voice not completely unsteady, but there is effort to remain calm and unwavering behind his words. There is also concern, and Kuro knows what he is going to say.

“I don’t want to stop,” he says, his voice a strained whisper, before Wolf can say out loud what he is thinking. “I want to keep going.”

Wolf’s frown deepens, but, if he is going to say anything else, he gets stopped by Kuro’s sudden movement, as he lowers his hips more and takes a good portion of Wolf’s cock into him. Although letting out a strangled moan, Kuro decides to just not stop at all- He is sure he _can_ endure this, and, as with Wolf’s fingers, it’s just a matter of getting his body acclimated to it. Trying to breathe as deeply and regularly as possible, he pushes his hips down bit by bit- For a moment, it certainly feels like it’s never going to finally fit inside in all of its length. But it _should_ \- It feels like it’s spreading him in a completely new way, but it doesn’t hurt, it isn’t really uncomfortable, just- Just slightly overwhelming.

Then, at an unexpected moment, his sensitive, heated skin collides gently with Wolf’s, and Kuro lets out a soft but loud moan he is not able to anticipate or catch before it leaves his lips, drowning the sound of Wolf’s own groan. Slowly, Kuro lets his legs relax, his bottom seated over the strong muscles of Wolf’s hips, and he leans his head back and closes his eyes for a moment. He tries to fight against the sudden rush of adrenaline surging through his blood and to breathe slowly, to calm himself down for a moment, to get accustomed to actually have all of Wolf inside of him. But it’s too hot, too tight, and Wolf’s heartbeat seems to resonate on every part of his own body. He feels a kind of fullness he has never felt before, and everything about it is new and strange, but he likes it. He likes it a lot.

Wolf remains silent and unmoving below him, but, when Kuro experimentally moves just a bit, he can feel the grip on his waist getting firmer, stronger. Looking down at him once more, Kuro cups Wolf’s fingers with his own, caressing the back of his hand and then his wrist and his forearm, his fingertips tracing the subtle texture of small, old scars on Wolf’s skin. He’s just giving himself time, to catch his breath, to adjust properly, to not let his impatience guide him- But it’s just so difficult.

He has to admit, though, at least on his own head, that he is a slightly bit unsure on how to proceed. Bracing himself with one hand on Wolf’s arm and the other one on his chest, being mindful of his bandages, he grounds his hips in a short movement, feeling the heat throb deep inside of him and his heart thundering below his ribs. Is that what he is supposed to be doing? Does it feel good for Wolf too? Unfortunately, Kuro knows he won’t be honest with his wants and feelings, and so, he is left with uncertainty. However, it was his own idea to take the lead and position himself on top, so he has to come up with something sooner or later. His mind is hazy at best, and his body seems to want to think on his own, so the best he can decide for now is to try to discover what feels best for himself- With any luck, it may also feel the best for Wolf too.

So he lets his hips decide how to move, how to grind down on Wolf’s cock- Every movement feels exhilarating, strange, new. Every inch of his body seems oversensitive, from deep inside his belly to the tip of his fingers and his toes, and the burning heat spreads through him and leaves him incredibly lightheaded. He lets his pace be somewhat erratic and slow, adjusting ever so slightly in between thrusts, tensing his legs and arching his back to find a better position.

A high-pitched, strangled moan leaves his lips when he finally finds what he was looking for- or what his body was looking for, the exact movement that could let Wolf’s cock brush in the most pleasurable way against that spot inside of him. His mind immediately zeroes on that feeling and on Wolf’s heavy hand circling his waist like an anchor, and he loses all conscious control over his body and his thought process altogether. His hips start slow, and then gain momentum, as they seek to repeat that blissful, delightful motion. Wolf’s cock is so hot, and so hard, and he feels it everywhere, as his insides and his sensations seem to melt together. He’s vaguely aware of the messy rhythm of his breath and the sounds he is making, but doesn’t feel capable of reigning over them at all. He may care later, but, right now, it doesn’t concern him one bit.

Unexpectedly, though, he has to stop at some point, and he feels irrationally disappointed on himself for it. His cock and his insides ache with want, but, not accustomed to this kind of physical effort, his legs feel weak and incapable of maintaining the pace he himself has set.

“I apologize,” Kuro says in a tiny voice, when he remembers how to use words properly. “My legs are slightly tired-”

Wolf, however, resolves the situation immediately, by sitting up and, holding Kuro by his waist and securing him against his body, arranging his strong legs in a better position to lighten Kuro’s burden of having to move by himself.

Holding onto Wolf’s shoulders, Kuro realizes how close to each other they are now. Just before, the rhythm of what he was doing felt so good- But he still felt a little by himself, only having Wolf’s hand supporting him as the only other point of contact between them. Like this, though, he can feel Wolf’s skin and warmth all around him, can mingle his feverish breath with his, can look into his eyes from up close and see his expression is definitely not as impassive as he had thought.

“Wolf,” he whispers, cupping his face with one hand, tracing the line of his jaw and curling his fingers around his neck, encouraging him to continue.

So Wolf continues, of course. His grip on Kuro’s waist becomes firmer, and he slowly, with a very controlled movement, thrusts up into him. Kuro exhales shakily- He doesn’t know why, but Wolf moving into him feels even better than before. He still, almost as if by reflex, grinds his hips back to meet Wolf’s motion, and adjusts himself on his arms- When, after a moment, he is able to find the ideal position for Wolf’s thrusts to caress his insides _just right_ , Kuro finally surrenders to it completely.

He could see now why all he has read about this was so intense, the words so passionate. It’s because it’s so easy to let go of all the other things on his mind and just focus on the warmth of someone he has such tender feelings for. So easy, almost alarmingly so. He can only focus on so much sensation, and his head, at least for this ecstatic moment, is filled only by it, only by Wolf’s touch, by his heated skin against his, by his cock giving him such raw pleasure, by his dark eyes and his intense stare. The only thing he wishes for is to be able to remain on this moment forever, where no other soul except for them exists, and there are no thoughts of the impending fate that hangs over them.

He is going to burst, though- He’s going to overflow and, as much as he doesn’t want for this to ever finish, the pressure and the heat building inside of him are suffocating. He wants to continue to look at Wolf in the eyes, but his own eyelids flutter close involuntarily when the cold fingers of his prosthetic arm close around his hip and the pace becomes deliciously merciless. A pitiful sound escapes Kuro’s throat, and he leans his head back, his body and his mind completely overloaded of such blissful sensations. He knows it will end as soon as he does, but he has to touch himself, _he has to_. Loosing his grip on Wolf’s neck, he slides a hand down and takes his own cock between his fingers, not needing to do much else, only letting Wolf’s thrusting motions make himself thrust into his hand.

He bites his bottom lip so hard as he comes that, if he weren’t unable to bleed, he would have presumably hurt himself. It probably doesn’t do much to muffle the raw, broken string of moans that comes out of his mouth, but he does it almost as a reflex, trying to keep something of himself together, to not disarm completely under the force of the deep pleasure coursing through his veins. If he doesn’t fall apart, though, is mostly thanks to Wolf’s arms keeping him tight and secure against him. The burning heat inside of him has uncoiled, but he still feels, long seconds after, the tingling warmth spreading across his skin and his insides, and his head is blissfully light.

Opening his eyes to the dimly lit room, Kuro finally gazes at Wolf again, offering him the tiniest, weakest smile, the intensity of what he feels on his chest when he looks at him almost painful to bear right now. He catches a second of Wolf glancing straight at him with heavy eyes, but he quickly bows down his head, as if thinking he is being disrespectful by looking at Kuro like that when he is in such a vulnerable state.

“Wolf,” Kuro says his name with a tenderness on his voice that almost surprises himself, and, wiping his hand on the poor mattress below them, cups Wolf’s face softly and makes him raise his head again.

There is not much strength left on his body, if any at all, but Kuro slowly grinds his hips down into him again, his insides feeling oversensitive and too warm still, but not in an unpleasant way. Wolf, though, looks at him with a deep frown.

“My lord?” he asks, his voice as coarse and low as Kuro has ever heard it. “...You will overexert yourself.”

But Kuro shakes his head gently. “I won’t. Besides, you still are...” Well, Wolf is still hard and seated deep inside of him, but, even after all that has happened between them, Kuro still feels it would be slightly crude to say such a thing out loud.

Wolf seems to completely understand what he is talking about, however, since his demeanor turns apologetic in the blink of an eye. “...You don’t need to concern yourself with that.”

Kuro looks at him with genuine disconcert in his eyes for a second, until it dawns on him the fact that Wolf really isn’t thinking about himself at all in this whole scenario.

“I don’t _need to_? What are you saying...?” He whispers sweetly, caressing Wolf’s face and, not paying attention to his words, trying to find support with his feet on the futon to continue to thrust his body down into him.

Kuro notices Wolf is looking at him with hesitant eyes, seemingly truly at odds with himself about how to actually proceed.

“Please, move as you like,” Kuro says, his voice still weak, but infinitely gentle. “I want you to feel good too.”

“My lord, I-”

“Wolf. Please.” At this point, it’s more of a plea than an order, but Kuro knows he will use that card if he needs to, if Wolf needs a bit more of a firmer push to forget, at least for a moment, what are they supposed to be, and what are they supposed to do and do not. He doesn’t care. Just for now, he doesn’t care, and he needs for Wolf to not care either.

Maybe his tone is sufficiently raw and needy, though, because, in the end, Wolf finally nods. Relieved, Kuro works his hips on an uninterrupted motion against his, although his pace is slow and feeble, his body definitely not being able to keep up with it after being shaken to his very core- He gasps softly when Wolf moves to adopt a fully kneeling position, and his grip on Kuro’s waist tightens, keeping him firmly and close against him. Kuro has no other choice than to surround Wolf’s hips with his legs, completely losing his footing on the mattress, but definitely approving of the much more intimate position. Wolf thrusts into him with an ease of movement that leaves him breathless, as his strong body is unrestrained by this angle, but, as if still needing some convincing, the rhythm he picks up is unhurried, almost wary.

“You may move faster, if you wish,” Kuro whispers, caressing Wolf’s face encouragingly.

For a second, he sees the hesitation on Wolf’s eyes, and wonders if he is going to backtrack on his previous decision and call everything off with an apology. But he doesn’t- Instead, he grinds his hips up into Kuro’s body to finally, finally try to chase his own pleasure as he was asked to do.

Clinging to his neck with one hand to try to keep their faces as close to each other as possible, Kuro feels his heart pick up in speed too, as their hips smash together in such a delicious motion. His body is being completely supported by Wolf’s arms and the powerful muscles of his legs, but he moves into Kuro like he weighs nothing at all- Even though he feels like he has just came, the now familiar heat of intense arousal pulses on his lower belly once more. Maybe because Wolf’s cock is still doing an stellar job of thrusting right into all the nicest places inside of him, maybe because he is quite a bit more than impressed with Wolf’s display of strength and dexterity in this unexpected, intimate way.

More than anything, though, Kuro feels himself completely drawn to the subtle changes in Wolf’s expression, that he is starting to notice only now, as he was too lost on his own pleasure to pay attention to it before. Wolf is not flushed, as expected, or seemingly doing much of a physical effort at all, but he is breathing quite more heavily than usual, and low, small grunts are starting to make their way out of his throat. He definitely was restraining himself before, putting down his wants and needs to solely focus on pleasuring Kuro- He has been so, so good to him. It makes Kuro wish so much that Wolf could be more honest, that he could allow himself to lose control more, to hear him make those delightful, coarse sounds more.

Trying to not be swept away by his own renewed, mounting arousal, Kuro cups Wolf’s face with both hands and caresses his jaw and his cheeks, brushing lovingly the ashy skin over his right temple and tucking back the loose strands of hair that have fallen over his face.

“Wolf- My Wolf-” The words fall from his lips without Kuro being able to think about them first, interlaced with breathless sighs.

Wolf groans audibly at them- They are not anything out of the ordinary, but Kuro’s voice is filled with overwhelming tenderness and affection, carrying with them so many feelings that will be irremediably left unsaid between them. His thrusts take on a relentless pace for a moment, and then his rhythm completely falls apart as he comes inside Kuro’s body, his cock seated as deep as it could be. Kuro holds him as he can, holds his face between his small fingers and brings them together as close as they can possibly be, his eyes fixated on Wolf’s expression. It isn’t a particularly open face, but, compared to how stoic he usually is, it seems so intense it makes Kuro’s heart flutter.

When Wolf comes around from the height of his pleasure, Kuro half-expects an instinctive apology to come out of his mouth. But it doesn’t happen. Wolf just looks at him in complete silence, the firm grip he has around his body not relenting, his gaze softer than Kuro has seen in... Forever, maybe. His touch as soft as it can be, Kuro brushes his fingertips through his hair, through the sides of his face and his neck. Almost as a response, Wolf lifts his hand from his waist and cups the back of Kuro’s neck with warm fingers, then slowly leans towards him and rests his forehead against his.

Their shaky gasps for air mix together and, even from so close, they just look into each other’s eyes, as if frozen in a moment in time, as if wanting to burn into their memories the depth of the other’s gaze.

And then, Kuro kisses him.

...He is a complete fool. Since the very beginning, since the first time the idea of sharing this kind of intimacy with Wolf popped into his head, he had convinced himself that certain things would be permitted, and certain things wouldn’t. On his mind, asking for sex seemed reasonable enough, at least in those fantasies of his in which he gathered enough courage to do so. After all, some of the accounts he had read on his old journals even referred to it as a physiological need, something that was sometimes done to appease certain bodily demands. Under that light, it was something he could hide himself behind. Kissing, though... Kissing was something he wished with all his might he could do, but that he was terribly afraid it would expose him and his feelings in the most frightening way.

But, in the end, he couldn’t not do it.

So he brings their lips together, the kiss soft and brief and tender, so tender. But Wolf doesn’t correspond to it; he just remains silent and quiet, even when Kuro gains a bit of distance from him and looks up at his eyes, the warmth inside him and the rhythm of his heart almost overwhelming. It’s as terrifying as he had feared for a whole second, until- Until Wolf’s fingers curl a bit more firmly around the back of his neck, and, unexpectedly, he kisses him back. To be fair, however, Kuro is so eager for it that he leans forward at the same time Wolf does, their lips meeting halfway.

Everything that happens after that is in a bit of a blur, his mind too dazed, his body too warm, his heart beating too fast, the heat pulsating sharply all across his body. Their kiss becomes desperate and messy and wet surprisingly fast, and Kuro feels his blood and his skin burning anew, as they did when they were just starting. It just feels incredibly good, even if he doesn’t have the slightest idea about what he is doing, or if he is doing it correctly at all, and his cock throbs in arousal at the same pace in which Wolf’s tongue caresses his own. All he knows is that he should be spent, but he is actually starting to consider that he may be able to push his body just a bit more, at least one more time.

Supporting him firmly by his waist with his prosthetic hand, Wolf turns them around smoothly and lays him gently on the futon, covering him with his body, not a millimeter of distance between them. Kuro takes him on his arms, his hands clinging to Wolf’s neck and his legs circling his hips as Wolf penetrates him again- His cock had gone a bit softer for a moment after coming, but is now as hard and ready as it was before. Still keeping their bodies glued together with his prosthetic arm looped around him, Wolf thrusts into him with renewed enthusiasm, the pace fast and hard and so, so good.

Wolf is probably not using all of his strength, not by a long shot, but Kuro can feel the raw force on the core of his being, on how his muscles work against his body, and it only arouses him even more. That he finally is going all out on him is something he wouldn’t have expected, but that it pleases him so much. Kuro kisses him in between moans, his hands caressing his hair, his shoulders, his arms, his hips making the effort to meet Wolf’s as best as they can in their frenzied pounding. It feels so different from before- Before, Wolf’s movements were much more restrained, much more calculated. Even when he let himself go for a brief moment to chase his own pleasure, it still felt like he was being somewhat careful, somewhat mindful. It isn’t anything like that now. Now, Wolf is just unrestrainedly fucking him into the mattress, and Kuro doesn’t know what made him switch to this behavior (was it the kiss, perhaps? Or the sensation of finality that loomed over them?), but he welcomes it wholeheartedly.

“Wolf- Wolf-” It’s the only thing on his mind, and the only thing that comes, in breathless, frantic whispers, from his lips, spilling into his mouth as they kiss, as Wolf answers him with low, deep groans.

It’s like they are melting together, the limits between them blurring and fusing, their heated, sweaty skin burning at the same degree, their eyes and mouths and hips locked into each other.

Kuro wishes it never ends, but it eventually has to, as Wolf takes his cock on his warm, rough hand and tugs on it only a handful of times. He spills weakly between them, but he feels it burst in the center of his body, his legs and arms shaking and his toes curling in a pleasure that it’s almost too much to bear. Wolf continues to thrust into him, his rhythm increasingly erratic and urgent, until he comes undone once more deep inside of him, his hips twitching against Kuro’s, his raw grunt vibrating on his body too.

It takes a while for him to return to his senses, to begin to understand where his body finishes and where Wolf’s starts. It’s admittedly quite difficult, though, since Wolf is still over him, one hand gently cupping his neck, the other supporting his weight with his elbow to not rest more than the necessary against Kuro’s much smaller frame. He feels completely drained, and yet full of a lovely warmth that seems to spread through his whole being. From the outside, though, he must look like a rightful mess, his skin stained with his own seed, his cheeks hot and flushed, his hair sticking to his temples due to perspiration, his breathing still shallow and unsteady. Wolf, though, is unfairly much more composed already, as if it took him no effort at all to return to his usual, composed self. His hair is still quite disheveled, at least, and his gaze has not yet closed off completely, as he looks down at Kuro with a mix of softness and uncertainty on his eyes.

“My lord...” he says, in a low voice.

But Kuro puts his fingertips gently over his lips before he can say anymore.

“Don’t apologize. This is all that I wanted.”

It is all that he wanted, and all that he could have hoped for- Maybe even more than that, in fact.

Wolf nods. Slowly, and with careful movements, he removes himself from inside of Kuro’s body, and then from over him. For the first time in what feels like a while, Kuro is hit by the coldness of the night, soon to be dawn, around them. He sits up with a considerable effort, not being able to remember when it was the last time he felt this tired, if he ever did. Wolf approaches him to put the long discarded yukata over his shoulders, and Kuro smiles at him, closing the robe around his arms and his body. He doesn’t feel the cold properly yet, as his skin still retains the heat of their closeness, but he will sooner or later.

“Ah. Would you get a handkerchief for me?” Kuro asks, his voice still a bit raw from having overworked his throat just moments ago. “It’s there, over the chest.”

Wolf nods and, throwing his own yukata on unceremoniously, stands up to retrieve the requested item. He moves and walks around as if he isn’t the least bit tired, and Kuro has to marvel at his physical condition, or admit to himself that he is pretty much on the weak side. His shinobi returns to him, and kneels again on the mattress to offer him the handkerchief.

“May I assist you?” he asks, though, bowing his head to him slightly.

Kuro nods, and Wolf gets a bit closer to him to clean his skin with the soft piece of fabric. Much less hesitant than before about touching him, perhaps because this seems like an actual task he is allowed to perform as part of his duties, Wolf dries the sweat off his neck, swipes his chest with gentle motions, and pats carefully the interior of his thighs. Even if Wolf has slotted back easily into his usual mindset, Kuro still feels the tenderness on his movements, and so he leans forward to rest his head on his shoulder for a moment, at least until he is done tidying him up. The truth is, he wishes he could stay like this with him until the night turns to day, and, even then, maybe also a little more than that. But he has already taken too much advantage of a time they don’t have. So he lets himself bask in Wolf’s warmth just a bit, one last time, but doesn’t ask for anything else.

Now that his mind and his body have started to cool down, he finds that the blissful blankness of his head has only lasted for so long. The real world is returning to his actual shape around them, and he feels a small, painful throb on his chest when he realizes that their time is almost up.

Kuro takes a bit of distance and looks up at him, as he is folding the now dirty handkerchief. It breaks his heart to think what will be of his Wolf after he is gone. Would he be able to forgive Kuro for all he has made him go through? Or to forgive himself, for actually going along with his plan? His own existence has caused so much death, so much suffering. But he at least has also loved, maybe even sparked love on someone else- Perhaps, after everything, after giving himself time to heal, Kuro could become a fond memory for Wolf at some point.

“You are crying,” says Wolf, his voice slightly alarmed, his brow deeply furrowed.

Kuro notices it almost at the same time as him, as his tears run warm and slow down his cheeks. He wishes he could be stronger, stronger like Wolf, but- Well, he is what he is. Shaking his head softly, he wipes his face with a hand.

“It’s nothing,” he says, not wanting for Wolf to think it’s something he did, or his fault in any way. Then, he cups his face tenderly with both hands and, looking at him from up close, whispers, “thank you.”

There is so much more he wishes he could say to him, but what will that achieve now? Their fate will not change, even if he spills his heart out right in this moment. And he doesn’t want to cause Wolf more pain or guilt than what he may already feel, so he remains silent. But he cannot help to lift his head and press his lips softly against his once more, just once.

When the kiss ends, though, it’s Wolf who shakes his head softly. “I should thank you, my lord,” he says, his voice a mere whisper.

Kuro looks at him, not sure about what to think of Wolf’s words. He ends up lowering his gaze, though, just in time to not let his tears betray him again.

“You wouldn’t rest for a bit until morning, would you?” Kuro asks, already knowing, and accepting, what will be the answer to such a question.

“...It will be best if I remain alert, my lord” he says, repeating what he had said in what seems to be so long ago, but was, in fact, that same night.

Kuro nods, but still asks, just as he asked a few hours ago, “will you keep me company until I fall asleep, though?”

“Of course, my lord,” Wolf answers, and, adjusting his robe, moves to sit on the floor, kneeling just beside the futon.

Kuro smiles at him. A small, but sweet smile. “Thank you, Wolf.”

Too tired to care about his general state of undress or the condition of the mattress below him, Kuro lies on the futon and covers himself with the thick blanket. When he closes his eyes, the room seems as silent as if he were alone on it- But he knows Wolf is just at a hands reach from him, and his quiet presence comforts him to no end. Surprisingly, though, his mind feels much more drained than he thought it would be, the exhaustion catching up with him alarmingly fast. It’s a welcomed respite from his usually agitated plight. The only thing he makes an effort to keep on his head, at least for a bit before succumbing to sleep, is Wolf, and the lovely moment they just shared. It will be his most cherished memory, up until the very end.

Letting himself drift off in the midst of such a pleasant remembrance for once, Kuro falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, Wolf was away having his last round with Owl, and the mentions of him being closer to Emma are because he is on his path to the Purification ending of the story. So, Kuro is trying to come to terms with his own death, but in fact it’s Wolf who will sacrifice himself in the end, and he already knows he is going to. ...This game makes me so sad sometimes.
> 
> Please excuse any bodily functions not working as they should. I always fall into the trap of wanting to be moderately realistic about it, but also wanting the characters to fuck until they cannot stand. orz
> 
> At least, I learned that “my lord” is not supposed to be capitalized, even though the game does on the english subtitles. I wish we had a better translation for the japanese suffixes the characters use, they are much more nuanced and sound a lot better, haha.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it, at least a bit! ♥


End file.
